


Picking up Pieces

by disdainfullady



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfullady/pseuds/disdainfullady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was originally written for rain_drew  (Rain) for the VM Summer Ficathon who wanted: Weevil, Veronica, V/L, time in the girls bathroom, Weevil's bike, and sand across a clean carpet.  </p><p>Set post season 1.</p><p>Some dark themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking up Pieces

“Later, man”

Weevil nodded back at Felix, turned back and almost ran straight into Veronica. She looked like hell. But then, she’d been there in person a couple days ago. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here today.”

He might as well have not spoken for all the awareness she showed. She grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the girl’s restroom. He frowned, but allowed himself to be propelled forward.

After checking to ensure the bathroom was empty – a needless maneuver, she’d staked such a claim on the place that everyone knew it as her damned office – she turned to face him, meeting his gaze for the first time. The look in her eyes was cold, almost alien, and for the first time he maybe understood why some of his guys were a little afraid of her.

He tried to lighten things up, cocked a grin at her, “I knew you wanted me, V, but-“

“Where is he?” Her voice was so bitter as to be almost unrecognizable. “Weevil, where is he? What did you do to him?”

He should have known. After all, it had been all over the news. Movie star’s son vanishes after learning Dad banged/killed his girlfriend. It had been only two damn days and he was already sick and tired of the story.

He made his voice neutral. “I don’t know where your boy is.”

She was so implacably still. It was unnerving. He found himself praying that she’d fidget or something. Show some sign that there was anyone human in there anymore. “You were there. Your guys were seen.”

No point in hiding anything, then. Not that he’d had much hope that she didn’t already know; she’d probably got everything from her daddy’s cop friends five minutes after they finished questioning him. 

“Yeah, maybe we were there, but I told you, I don’t know where he is.”

She stayed rigid, her glare fixed on him. “Just like you didn’t take anything from Lilly’s room?”

He felt himself getting angry. She’d believe the worst in anyone – no wonder Echolls had wanted to do a dance off that damn bridge. “I did what I had to do there, V, I told you that.”

“Was Logan something you had to do?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

He tilted his head back. “I’m not the one who turned his ass into the cops.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he rushed on. “I was pissed, yeah. And maybe we left him a little roughed up, but if you talked to your cop buddies, you’ll know he left that bridge of his own accord.”

“You could have caught up with him again later. Somewhere less public.”

This was unbelievable. “Come on, Veronica, you can’t really believe I’d do that.”

“I know how much you cared about Lilly.” It was a simple statement. It was also an accusation. 

She continued, “I would have destroyed everything in my path if it would have found her killer. I pretty much did.”

He heard the note of regret in her voice, and suddenly it all made sense. She wasn’t pissed at him. She was pissed at herself. She’d heard about her boy’s attempt, blamed herself.

He laughed shortly, humorlessly; he couldn’t believe it had taken this long for him to figure it out. “You aren’t worried about what I might’ve done. You’re worried about what he’ll do.” 

Not that he blamed her, really. The kid was ready to jump before he found out his dad was some kind of psychopathic killer. If anyone ever had a reason to think life wasn’t worth it – he didn’t let himself finish the thought.

Veronica was shaking slightly. He could see the entire façade she’d built up begin to crumble. Shit, this was not something he needed to deal with.

“Look, V. Maybe he just needs some time alone to figure shit out,” he offered hollowly.

She shook her head, and he noticed that her eyes were bright with tears. God damn it. Her voice shook slightly, but she managed, “He can’t be alone. You can only be alone when you know you have people to go back to. Being alone now- it’ll kill him.” Her face crumpled, and he saw her fighting to keep the tears from falling. She spoke again, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear it. “I’ll have killed him.”

He’d never been any good with this, but he moved instinctively to pull her into a hug. She tensed, kept her arms folded tight against herself, but she allowed him to hold her. He could feel her trembling, her body wracked with the sobs she refused to let out.

They stood that way, he couldn’t say how long, maybe ten minutes maybe an hour. Well, it wasn’t like he had the best attendance anyway. Eventually she pulled away, outwardly calm once more, although he’d seen how thin that veneer of composure was.

“I have to find him. I can’t – I have to fix this.”

He wasn’t sure she whether she was talking to him or to herself. She sounded entirely hopeless and that scared him more than anything else. He’d heard the same defeat on Friday night – from Logan Echolls.

 

“So let’s find him, then.”

***

“Where would he go?” They’d spent two hours going over the news and police reports. It wasn’t exactly his area of expertise. There was nothing there anyway. The car had been found abandoned in the parking lot of a liquor store outside of Neptune. He hadn’t shown up at his house. None of his friends had heard from him. Any number of cabs had picked up drunk white boys that evening, and half a dozen were willing to swear they’d driven the Echolls kid. He could be anywhere.

Her voice was quiet. She hadn’t spoken above a whisper since she’d broken down in the bathroom. “I don’t know. He’s never really been one for hiding out. Logan hates being alone.”

She still hadn’t actually cried, but every sentence held the tears she was holding back.

 

“Maybe he’s just holed up in some hotel somewhere?” She’d dismissed all his suggestions so far, but she seemed glad that he kept offering possibilities. The more places he could be, the more likely it was he hadn’t gone back to the bridge.

This was clearly a possibility she’d already considered. “I don’t think so. He hasn’t used his credit cards or withdrawn money. He never carried that much cash on him and he probably spent that at the liquor store and the cab, assuming he took a cab.”

“Okay. What about the boat?”

She shook her head. “I checked with the marina yesterday. It hasn’t been taken out. Anyway, it was his dad’s boat, and I don’t think he’d want to be reminded of everything.”

Weevil didn’t bother to mention that there was no way Logan wasn’t being constantly reminded. “So what does that leave? I mean, all this shit is associated with his dad somehow.” He gestured at the papers spread in front of him.

She bit her lip, a despondent look on her face. “I don’t…” She paused suddenly, as if a thought had hit her. She began rifling through the papers, looking more hopeful than she had all morning.

He waited for her to enlighten him, but she stayed silent. “Yeah?”

She clutched a paper triumphantly. He glanced over and realized it was a list of all the properties held. They’d looked at it half a dozen times already. There were a couple of places in California, but most of the rest were in outside of the U.S. He still couldn’t believe anyone could just collect houses like that. It wasn’t like they were shacks either.

Veronica pointed at one of the entries triumphantly. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing. Place on the beach. One of the smaller ones he guessed, only worth 1.5 million dollars. He wondered how many times his house could fit into this summer cottage.

“You said he wouldn’t want to be in one of his dad’s places.”

“This one. I’d forgotten… Those first couple of summers before his mom stopped,” she hesitated slightly, “um, caring about things. She had the guest house all set up there.”

She smiled sadly. “I was only ever in it once, with Lilly. Mrs. Echolls said we were going to have a girl’s day. We felt so sophisticated when she showed us around the place. It was like an art gallery.”

“Logan treated that place with a kind of reverence he showed almost nothing else.” She nodded carefully as though convincing herself of the value of the idea. “He could be there.”

He stood up and she blinked in surprise. “What are you-“

“It’s not that far away. Come on.”

He insisted on picking up his extra helmet before they left. She’d wanted to argue, but his bike, his rules. He already knew her car wasn’t exactly in drivable condition and she had explained briefly that her dad’s car was probably in Mexico by now. Her mom sounded like a real prize.

The way down felt interminably long. There was no traffic to speak of, and he knew they were making good time, but he felt like he was cutting through molasses. Veronica gripped tightly at his jacket, and he could feel her silent plea to hurry, please hurry.

***

A brown paper bag lay crumpled by the entrance. There was no telling how old it was but Veronica’s pace quickened. She bypassed the main house completely, cutting around the back.

The guest house was unlocked. He followed her carefully inside. A track of sand stretched across the otherwise spotless carpet, but the room showed no other signs of recent habitation. The place was a fucking museum. He couldn’t imagine anyone feeling comfortable here.

Now that she was inside Veronica seemed rooted in place, not daring to go any further. He looked at her in concern and crossed to the next room himself. He stopped short in the doorway, felt her come up behind him, heard the tiny gasp, saw her rush forward.

Logan Echolls lay sprawled across the bed, in a room that must have started out as flawless as the one before it. Now the coverlet was rumpled, and various bottles lay spread around the room. The stench of vomit reached him and he felt sick. Then he saw the pill bottle by Logan’s head.

“Fuck.”

Veronica was leaning frantically over Logan, pleading with him to wake up. To talk to her. The tears she hadn’t managed all day were flowing freely now and he could hear the edge of hysteria in her voice. He was wondering if he should pull her away when Logan stirred and he almost jumped out of his skin.

Logan’s eyes focused blearily on Veronica and he smiled. “Should have known,” he slurred. “You’re late, Veronica. But that’s you right? Too little, too late. Nevermind, go on. Go.” He gestured vaguely towards the doorway.

“No. No goddamnit.” Weevil could barely understand what she was saying through her tears. “Logan, please.”

“Aw, you worried? Or are you just mad I didn’t let your guard dog rip my throat out?” Logan giggled. “If he’s here he could go ahead.” He leaned forward confidingly, “He’d still get to be the official cause of death.”

Weevil realized that Veronica was trying to pull Logan up off the bed. He stepped forward, which seemed to make Logan notice him for the first time. “Hey, here he is!”

“V, call an ambulance.” He was trying to remember what you do in cases like these. He had a vague memory of that scene with Kate Hudson in that band movie.

Veronica still hadn’t moved away from Logan. “Veronica, V, I get it, but you need to call an ambulance now.”

He gently pried her away from Logan and pulled the kid off the bed. His words had finally seemed to get through to Veronica and she fumbled for her cell phone, pleading to the emergency dispatch person. Logan didn’t fight him, but he was a dead weight, and Weevil wondered desperately if they had enough time.

He stood Logan under the shower and turned the damn thing on full, remembering too late that this was going to fucking ruin his jacket. Logan sputtered and began to struggle. God he did not sign up for this.

And then Veronica was there, her arms around Logan, apologizing, begging him to forgive her, telling him she’d never forgive him if he gave up. Logan actually seemed to focus on her words for the first time, and Weevil felt a desperate need to not be there interrupting.

But she was too small to hold Logan up by herself, so he stood there silently, trying to pretend he wasn’t there.

Logan was crying now, his arms heavy on Veronica’s shoulders. He was muttering something in her ear that Weevil tried hard not to hear.

“You can.” Veronica’s voice was determined, and if anyone could keep someone alive by sheer willpower she would be the one to do it. “You can and you will. You can hate me for all eternity, but you are not allowed to die today. I won’t let you.”

Logan was dropping, but he managed to say, “… don’t hate you. Tried, but it didn’t work.”

“Logan, stay with me. Just hold on. Please.” Her voice was desperate and Weevil knew she could feel Logan fading. Where the hell was that ambulance? “Please, Logan, try. I can’t lose you too.” 

Logan clutched at her convulsively, but her eyes were only on his face. He managed a half smile, “Never was good at saying no to anything that was bad for me. Specially if it had blond hair.”

Then the paramedics were finally there, and Weevil felt like bitching them out for taking so fucking long. He found himself relaxing a bit though, they were so calm and efficient – like this was an everyday kind of thing. He supposed that for them it might be.

He escaped back into the other room when he was sure he wasn’t needed for anything. He wandered through the perfect foyer, full of what was undoubtedly priceless artwork, even if some of it looked like his baby cousin could have painted it. 

Veronica slipped up beside him. “I’m going to go with the ambulance.”

He nodded; he’d pretty much been expecting that.

“Weevil, I can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t been here…”

He shook his head awkwardly. “Don’t worry about it V. I owed you.” He smiled, “We always owe each other stuff.”

He didn’t warn her against Logan. She wouldn’t listen anyway, and he wasn’t entirely sure she should. He just hoped she’d be careful, and that when it all fell apart again, he’d still be able to put the pieces back together.


End file.
